Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles vs Amset Ra: Breakneck Breakout
by Cory Tucholski
Summary: In part 2, the turtles try to stop The Foot Clan from executing a daring prison break at high speeds down a highway. At stake is the location of a map to the treasures of an ancient Egyptian pharaoh that allegedly grant immortality to their bearer. Is the legend true? And if it is, what a world with an immortal Shredder be like?


**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

_Please note that this is part 2 of a six part story. Part 1 is "The Egyptian Job." You should read that one before you read this one._

_The idea for this story came to me as I thought of a way to construct comic books for my kids without having to illustrate: Photograph Lego minifigures posed to the description in my scripts. Unfortunately, the expense in acquiring the sets that I needed to pull this story off combined with the "post-production" time involved with Photoshop deterred me from pursuing it beyond the idea stage. But I still wanted to tell the story, so I wrote it as a series of short stories, the result of which you are reading right now._

_As the previous story drew inspiration from several Lego sets, so does this one. The Lego City set "Prisoner Transport" inspired the actual breakout scene. The Pharaoh's Quest set "Golden Staff Guardians" contains the altar described in the story's climax._

_Feel free to rate and review. I hope to post more installments soon._

* * *

Police Substation B sits about a mile from the place where Slick got pinched. After processing, fingerprinting, delousing, and other assorted humiliations, the powers that be (influenced by Chase McCain) concluded that a substation lacked sufficient security for a criminal of Slick's resources. So they decided to move him to One Police Plaza, where they could keep a much better eye on him.

Handcuffed and leg shackled, Slick found himself escorted by three armed police officers out of the substation. About twenty feet away was a heavily armored prisoner transport truck sitting with the rear door open. Before he got there, however, two rows of police officers and detectives formed a gauntlet of taunting and laughing.

Leading the pack was Chase McCain himself, the detective that despised Slick more than all of these other jokers combined.

Slick walked with his head high. He wouldn't let any of these guys get to him.

When he neared McCain, the detective cupped a hand near his mouth and yelled, "That's right, you're going right where you belong, Slick!"

"Got a finger for you, McCain, but I can't show you in these cuffs."

"Careful." McCain scolded.

"Take the cuffs off me, tough guy."

One of the cops escorting him pushed Slick into the prisoner transport. Slick hit his head on a wood bench, leaving a spot of blood on the corner.

"Ooops," the cop said with a shrug.

Slick tucked his legs into the fetal position in just enough time to avoid being caught in the doors as McCain slammed them shut. Slick stretched back out and managed to sit on a bench just as the transport lurched into motion.

This was going to be a long trip.

* * *

The Dark Ninja traded the black wrap over his head for a perfectly polished black helmet with a mirrored visor. He sat upon a large motorcycle that growled louder than its rider. To his left, a Foot Soldier sat on a smaller, quieter cycle. To his right, two more Foot Soldiers revved the engines of their similarly smaller bikes.

The Dark Ninja watched the prisoner transport van pull from Substation B onto the main road. It picked up speed and headed toward downtown Manhattan, and the compound at One Police Plaza. Once it was there, Slick would be all but out of their reach.

Dark Ninja had a plan, however.

He signaled to the three Foot Soldiers, closed the mirrored visor, kicked his bike into gear and rode down the hill toward the street. His men followed suit, staying in a lopsided triangle formation.

* * *

The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles thought that Splinter might be overreacting. Yes, these two bandits hurt two of their own more than their opponents trained in the arts of ninjitsu. But on what basis can one conclude that this isn't over?

Clearly, the greasy one was the brains. He had been arrested by the cops after the turtles left, confirmed by listening to Donnie's police band. The one that got away, well, let's just say he was _not_ the brains. Without the little greasy one, the big guy wouldn't be much of a threat.

So what, exactly, were they doing? They heard that Slick, the "greasy one," was being transported from a police substation to police headquarters for greater security. Apparently, this guy was some kind of mastermind that they didn't want to take any chances with.

Master Splinter told them that in-transit would be the best time for someone to break Slick out. The substation would be too risky. Police headquarters would be out of the question. The turtles decided to observe the transport, to make sure that nothing bad happened.

Instead of the Shellraiser, the fab four were using the four-part go-kart. It was as fast as the Shellraiser, and far more maneuverable. As a bonus, they could detach pieces of this thing to each have their own vehicle. Leo reasoned that would come in handy in what would very likely turn into a car chase.

Donnie plotted the quickest route from Substation B to One Police Plaza. Currently, the turtles were racing to a rendezvous point with the route. If he calculated it correctly, Donnie and his brothers would fall into traffic right behind the transport van as it passed the road they were traveling on.

"There," Leo shouted over the go-kart's whiny hum. The transport van raced past the road just ahead of schedule. The turtles leaned into the turn and fell into step five car lengths behind the van. There was no other traffic on the road; contrary to the expression New York City _does_ sleep.

Leo leaned on the gas to close the gap between them and the transport.

"No traffic," Raph said.

"Nope," Leo agreed. "Wait, check that." Out of the corner of his eye, Leo noticed four motorcycles – one large, loud muscle bike and three buzzing streetfighters – rapidly approaching behind them.

"Trouble?" Raph asked.

"Probably," Leo answered. Maybe Master Splinter was right after all, and this wasn't a waste of time.

* * *

The muscle bike closed the gap quickly. Leo and Raph looked at each other, silently telegraphing the plan using only their eyes and instincts. Leo pulled one of the many levers Donnie installed, and with a metallic pop and hydraulic hiss, the go-kart separated into four smaller vehicles, each commanded by a turtle.

Leo and Raph maneuvered to the driver's side of the prisoner transport, while Mikey and Donnie guarded the passenger side.

Meanwhile, the muscle bike reached the rear bumper of the transport. The Dark Ninja signaled two Foot Soldiers around the driver's side. The third received a more ominous signal, and nodded his approval.

The third Foot Soldier pulled a thin tube from his _dogi_, and brought it to where his mouth would be. The Foot Soldier exhaled sharply into the tube, propelling a small dart that traveled a precise trajectory, angling downward and striking Raph's tire at the correct angle for maximum penetration. The dart followed the tire around a single revolution before being crushed between the tire and the street, triggering a small explosion that shattered Raph's back tire and shot a hubcap into the empty lane of oncoming traffic. The go-kart skidded as if Raph had hit a patch of ice.

"I'm hit," Raph exclaimed, slamming his brake pedal and pulling the steering wheel into the skid. It was too late. The turtles' warrior spun out of control and struck the median, a low concrete wall separating the two sides of the freeway. His go-kart was a smoking heap now.

"Turtles, stay the course," Leo said evenly but firmly into his headset. "Mikey, make sure that doesn't happen again."

"I'm on it," Mikey said. He downshifted, and seemed to travel in reverse.

Dark Ninja stayed on the back bumper of the transport van. It was up to his Foot Soldiers. The first Foot Soldier moved into position, passing Dark Ninja and taking the place Raph had recently vacated.

Slick looked out from the barred window. He saw a ninja on a streetfighter, and wasn't exactly sure what to make of this interesting development. The ninja leveled some kind of gun at the bars. He signaled Slick to get out of the way, and the thief complied.

The Foot Soldier shot a grappling hook from the gun, and it passed between the bars.

Leo, meanwhile, had his _katana_ ready. He tried to take a swipe at the ninja behind him, to stop him from whatever he was doing, but another explosion rocked his tire and sent him into a skid. He tried to correct, but it was too late. The ninja behind him slowed down and was already out of the way, behind Dark Ninja. Leo spun around twice before his brakes screamed to a halt in the middle of the highway.

Mikey sailed around the new obstacle, shouting: "I'm sorry Leo … I got him now!" Mikey surged forward to perform a PIT maneuver. The nose of his go-kart nudged the rear wheel of the Foot Soldier's streetfighter, but Mikey didn't strike just right. Instead, the streetfighter flew into a skid, which the Soldier easily corrected. He took aim at Donnie's tire, and exhaled sharply.

Donnie's tire exploded moments later, the scientist spinning around and around, sliding off the road into the grass. Mikey passed moments later, expressing another apology to Donnie.

The Foot Soldier who had taken a position behind Dark Ninja slammed his brakes, pulling the line taut. The grappling hook caught on the bars and another explosive charge activated, pulling the barred window free of the van and ripping a sizable hole.

Inside, the driver stirred. "What the –!?" he asked. He grabbed his radio. "We have a … uh... um, well, I don't think we have a code for this! Just send back up!"

The driver punched the accelerator, hoping that increased speed would discourage an escape attempt by the prisoner, and leave the conspirators too far behind to attempt … what_ever_ this was.

Mikey was on the back of the Dark Ninja now. Dark Ninja pulled one of his shiny, black _katanas_ free. He strafed to the left, and let Mikey move neck-and-neck.

Mikey's _nunchukus_ already whirled, and the party turtle tried to slam Dark Ninja's head with them. He figured that would knock the leader off balance, but he hadn't counted on this guy's speed. Dark Ninja took two crisscross swipes that both seemed to miss the mark, and then pulled forward near the hole in the side of the van.

The swipes didn't miss.

Mikey's go-kart fell apart in two pieces, like a perfectly sliced orange. Mikey hit the pavement and rolled painfully head-over-feet, landing roughly on his shell.

Driving even with the hole in the side of the prisoner transport, Dark Ninja signaled for Slick to jump. "You gotta be crazy," Slick said.

"Do it," Dark Ninja growled in his most imposing voice.

Slick took a deep breath. He summoned all of the courage he could and took one giant leap, through the air, and onto the vacant backseat of Dark Ninja's muscle bike. Slick lay across the back of the bike on his stomach.

His sudden weight caused the bike to weave slightly, but Dark Ninja regained control quickly and sped forward.

Predictably, Slick began to slide off the back seat. He had no way to grip the support bars since his hands were still cuffed. The Dark Ninja pressed a small button on his left handlebar, and a black strap shot across Slick and clicked into place, unseen, on the other side. It quickly tightened, belting Slick securely (albeit awkwardly) in position.

The Dark Ninja passed the cab of the prisoner transport, showing off the newly-freed Slick. Dark Ninja saluted the driver, and then cut across four lanes of traffic to the next exit.

* * *

Mikey stared up at the stars for a really long time. He was hurt. Badly. His shell had a crack in it, and he was bruised all over his body. He could only move his arms and legs with considerable effort and a lot of pain.

Road rash at its finest.

So he continued to lay on the pavement, staring up at the stars.

After some indeterminate period of time, he saw three faces looking down at him. Turtle faces.

Leo extended a hand, helping the battered Mikey to his feet. "I gave you _one_ job, Mikey!" Leo scolded.

"I -" Mikey began, but Donnie headed him off. "We could have stopped The Foot if you had taken that shooter out," Donnie said.

Mikey looked down at the pavement.

"We can't trust you with anything," Leo said.

"Yeah," Raph added, "what if the fate of the entire world rested on Mikey completing one simple job?"

"We'd be in trouble," Donnie grumbled.

The foursome began walking down the highway, trying to walk off their wounds.

"Dudes, I'm sorry," Mikey said. "I- I thought I had him."

"You didn't," Leo said. The group started picking up more speed, breaking into a trot. "Now c'mon, guys, let's finish this."

The four turtles broke into a run, heading along the path they knew the motorcycle had taken.

A police helicopter seemed to be heading in the direction of Central Park, the site of the original arrest.

"There," Leo said, pointing to the sky. "Let's head there."

* * *

By now, Slick had been freed of his manacles and led The Foot Clan to the hiding place of the map. Slick pulled it out of the earth and presented it to the foreboding Dark Ninja. Dark Ninja took the map carefully, and looked it over.

"It has the locations of _all_ of Amset-Ra's sacred treasures," Slick said proudly.

Dark Ninja rolled the map carefully, and placed it in his belt. Then he drew one of his polished, black _katanas_. "This is excellent work, Slick. I was told that when I hired you, I hired the best."

He clapped his free hand on Slick's shoulder, and brought the point of the _katana_ to Slick's solar plexus. "Regrettably, our arrangement must end now."

Dark Ninja used his hand to push Slick into the blade as much as he slid the blade into Slick's vital organs. Slick's eyes bugged out, and he bit his lip to avoid screaming. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, and he shook as if he was cold.

"Good," Dark Ninja said. "Good. Work through the pain, don't cry out. The honorable death of a true warrior." He pushed the blade deeper, so that the point exited Slick's back and severed his spine. He twisted the blade, and Slick squinted his eyes and bit his lip harder to avoid crying out.

He didn't want to give Dark Ninja the satisfaction.

"It almost pains me to do this, but I can't have anyone else competing for these treasures. They must belong to me."

The Foot Soldiers looked from one to the other. Their hands grasped their weapons.

"To The Foot," the Dark Ninja corrected himself. The Foot Soldiers relaxed, and withdrew hands from weapons. Dark Ninja turned his attention back to Slick. "You understand that this isn't personal, right?"

Slick nodded.

"It's just business," Dark Ninja said, withdrawing the blade. A fountain of blood splattered the Dark Ninja's dogi, and the legs and torso of the nearest Foot Soldier. Slick's hands cupped around his open stomach, trying furtively to stop the massive flow of blood.

He finally cried out. Pain and fear, in equal elements, found their way into the scream.

Dark Ninja shook his head slowly from side-to-side. "And I thought you'd manage to die honorably tonight, Slick. Oh well."

Slick crumpled to the ground, a used tissue carelessly discarded among other refuse on the trail.

Dark Ninja turned to his Foot Soldiers, handing one the soiled _katana_. As the Foot Soldier cleaned the bloody blade, Dark Ninja thought out loud. "Master Shredder will never give me a full leave to find these treasures based on a map. So we must quickly recover one."

The Foot Soldier handed the clean blade back to the Dark Ninja. The Dark Ninja sheathed it, then continued. "We recover the Golden Staff, and then we go to Master Shredder."

* * *

By the time the turtles had tracked The Foot to a small clearing off the primary trails of Central Park, the ninjas were long gone.

The Foot had left a body in the clearing: The robber known as Slick, the one they had freed from the armored prisoner transport. He lay in a spreading pool of blood.

"_Katana_," Donnie said absentmindedly. He turned Slick over and felt for a pulse.

The thief's eyes opened suddenly, and he coughed blood out of his mouth.

"He's _alive_?" Raph exclaimed.

"No way," Mikey said.

Slick tried to say something.

"What? What'ch'ya trying to say?" Donnie said encouragingly.

"Amset-Ra," Slick rasped slowly. He turned his head, and Donnie saw his skin tighten and pale immediately. It was as if water had been poured out of a clear vessel, and you can see that the vessel is now empty.

"He's gone."

"What does Anklet-Rap mean?" Mikey asked.

"Amset-Ra," Donnie corrected. "He was a terrible pharaoh..." He saw the glaze already stealing the sparkle out of Mikey's eyes. Donnie inhaled sharply and continued. "A _king_ ..."

"That's better."

"... of ancient Egypt. Supposedly, he had the most powerful magicians make him six sacred treasures. He put his own life force in them. Whoever possesses them will live forever."

"Can they do that?"

"Well, during the Exodus the magicians of Egypt were able to duplicate miracles originally wrought by Yahweh. God himself. So, yeah, this might be entirely possible." But Donnie's scientific mind raced the opposite direction. He know that there's no such thing as gods or miracles or magicians. Certainly the treasures of Amset-Ra are myth, as is the Exodus, the duplicating of the miracles, and possibly even God himself.

Right?

But even as he told himself this, he wasn't so sure. Nah, the logical part of his brain kicked in. Legends were just that: Legends. Not real history. Science says people don't live forever. Science is what Donnie trusted over ancient legends. The treasures are priceless. The Foot wants money. That's all.

Mikey, meanwhile, bought the hype. "So we should race The Foot to get the treasures of Ample-Rod first, so that Shredder can't live forever."

Leo looked at Raph, puzzled. " 'Ample-Rod?' "

Raph remained unmoved, as usual. "That's just _wrong_."

"No," Donnie said. "The Foot is after the money. People can't live forever with magic staffs or One Rings.

"Besides, there's a more elementary problem. We don't know where any of the treasures are. See, most pharaohs – sorry, _Egyptian kings_ – are buried with their worldly goods so that they'll have access to them in the afterlife. But the villagers thought that Amset-Ra was guilty of blasphemy for even creating the treasures, so they rose up against him, stole all the treasures, and buried them all over Egypt. They've been lost for centuries. We'd need a map to find them."

Raph examined a recently disturbed patch of earth. "You mean like an old map that could have been in a museum and possibly buried in this hole? A map like that?"

"Exactly," Donnie said. Then Donnie had another thought. "You know, the museum that this guy broke into earlier was owned by Professor Archibald Hale, the Egyptologist. I bet he found a map to Amset-Ra's treasures and now The Foot has it."

Leo gave the marching orders. "Donnie, you go talk shop with Professor Hale. Maybe he'll reward thwarting a robbery with information."

* * *

The Foot Clan was a massive, multinational crime syndicate that had friends in high places. Therefore, as a high ranking member, the Dark Ninja had no trouble obtaining a plane and a pilot.

Though the person who granted the favor knew better than to ask questions, the pilot didn't. "You wanna tell me why we're circling the middle of a godforsaken desert way out here in Egypt of all places?"

The Dark Ninja glared at the pilot. It held more menace than any words ever could have. It was cold. It shut down further inquiries.

"Got it," the pilot said. He checked a few instruments. "Okay, we're over the spot you picked out, buddy."

"Descend to 1,000 feet and stay in a holding pattern. I'll need picked up."

"You're the boss." The pilot descended and kept the plane level.

Dark Ninja opened the tailgate. He signaled to the Foot Soldiers accompanying him. All of them parachuted out of the plane. Dark Ninja held a flare gun up so that the pilot could see it. "Wait for my signal."

He holstered the gun and leaped from the plane.

"What the …!?" the pilot swore. He stayed in a holding pattern, just as the Dark Ninja instructed. This wasn't a man that the pilot wanted to piss off, because desert or not the pilot was sure of one thing: If he took off without making a pick up, the Dark Ninja would hunt him down.

* * *

Accompanied by a half-dozen Foot Soldiers, the Dark Ninja fell slowly to the desert sands by parachute. This was the spot indicated on the map, he was sure of it. This was the spot that contained the Golden Staff of Amset-Ra.

Alone, it would be worth millions. With the remainder of the pharaoh's treasures, The Foot could get far more.

He surveyed the barren wasteland around him. Nothing but blowing, shifting sands.

Then he spotted it. A faint gleam just over a rise. He signaled the Foot Soldiers, and the group moved quickly over the rise and into a valley. Here, the sands were more stable underfoot, but some of the drifting sand had buried what appeared to be a structure.

The back was tombstone-shaped, topped with blue triangular brick. Hieroglyphics adorned the structure, which appeared to be an altar with empty sconces on either side. Atop the altar, standing straight up, was a golden scepter the height of a tall man. It had a jewel at its top and sprouting from the jewel were two prongs parted slightly in the shape of a horseshoe.

The Golden Staff of Amest-Ra.

Dark Ninja approached it quickly, bounded up the two small stone steps to the altar, and reached out for the staff. It was all too easy, he thought. He curled his fingers around the middle of the staff, and he felt a surge of energy as he pulled the staff free.

He raised it above his head. Golden forks of electricity enveloped him as the jewel atop the staff shone bright as the desert sun. As the electricity dissipated, he lowered the staff. He knew then that the legend was real. The magic was real. If he returned the treasures to Amset-Ra's final resting place, the mythical Scorpion Pyramid, he could claim the power for his own and live forever.

"Now we signal the pilot and -" Dark Ninja didn't finish. A Foot Soldier pointed urgently near the altar. Dark Ninja looked at the spot, and saw a vortex of sand. Like a whirlpool, but sand instead of water. From it rose two figures wrapped in bandages and wearing blue nemes. The smell of death clung to them. They were armed with scimitars.

Two of the Foot Soldiers prepared for battle, but the other four ran as fast as they could in the opposite direction.

"Cowards," Dark Ninja growled. He turned to the mummies. "I'll not surrender this without a fight."

He stepped down to the sand, planted his feet, and held the staff as a _naginata_. One mummy moved to immediately engage Dark Ninja, while the other stayed out of range. The first swung his scimitar, which Dark Ninja parried by holding the staff in both hands parallel to the ground. He lifted the staff upward quickly and threw the blade backward, knocking the mummy off balance temporarily.

Dark Ninja used this opening to swing the bottom of the staff into the mummy's leg.

The second mummy skirted the perimeter of this battle in a deliberate semicircle, its eyes never leaving Dark Ninja. It tried to flank the ninja. One of the Foot Soldiers picked up on this and moved quickly to engage the mummy.

Dark Ninja swung the head of the staff downward onto the first mummy's nemes, but failed to contact it as the scimitar connected with the top of the staff, just under the jewel. The mummy planted the sole of its foot into Dark Ninja's stomach and shoved the attacker away.

The second Foot Soldier charged the first mummy, diving forward and tackling the creature. Wrapped in each others' arms, the two rolled several times over in the sand. Dark Ninja composed himself, trying to get his bearings straight.

KLANG! Scimitar meets _katana_ as the first Foot Soldier battled the mummy attempting to flank his boss. The Foot Soldier made several swipes with his _katana_, from the upper left down, the mummy ducks; again, duck; third time, duck. This time, however, the mummy righted itself and sliced at the Foot Soldier's leg. The scimitar took a chunk out just above the ankle. The Foot Soldier cried in pain, immediately clapping a hand over the wound.

A mistake that proved fatal.

The mummy brought the scimitar up into the Foot Soldier's neck, burying half the blade. He sliced across and the blade went deep, nearly severing the Foot Soldier's head. Blood poured out quickly, blanketing the thirsty desert sands. The Foot Soldier's body hit the ground hard.

The second Foot Soldier regained his footing quickly, and faced his own mummy. The two stared at each other in a contest of machismo. Each used his eyes to dare the other: Strike first.

The Dark Ninja replaced the fallen Foot Soldier in battle with the second mummy. Dark Ninja brought the staff across the mummy's face, which was parried by the creature's scimitar. Then, the mummy sliced with the scimitar, aiming for Dark Ninja's torso. But, the Dark Ninja was ready for that, blocking with the staff, then blocking again as the mummy tried to strike from the opposite side. The mummy brought the scimitar straight down, toward the Dark Ninja's eyes. Parried, once again, by a quick stroke from the staff.

Dark Ninja stepped back and ran quickly to one side. He now had some distance between himself and the mummy. He held the staff out, as if offering it to the mummy. He lobbed the staff, underhanded, at the mummy.

The creature dropped its scimitar to catch the staff. All its attention was on the staff.

And that was all that the Dark Ninja needed. He drew a _wakizashi_ – a small back-up sword – from an unseen scabbard in the small of his back and charged. With the mummy's attention focused on catching the staff, it never saw the blade until it plunged deep within its decayed torso. The Dark Ninja gave the small sword a sharp twist, and the mummy exploded in a cloud of sand.

The staff remained behind, laying on the ground where the mummy once stood.

A clang of scimitar to _katana_ signified the end of the stare-down, as the first mummy engaged the remaining Foot Soldier. A wide arc with the deadly scimitar connected as the Foot Soldier parried. Then the mummy feinted to the left, and then came in a wide arc quickly to the right, slicing the Foot Soldier's arm.

He was made of sturdier stuff than the counterpart bleeding out twenty feet away.

This Foot Soldier didn't flinch, and brought his _katana_ across the mummy's exposed torso, ripping bandages and slicing the decayed flesh. A must and mothball stench hit the air as the desiccated flesh ripped open, and at this the Foot Soldier flinched.

It was enough for the mummy to strike.

The scimitar plunged straight into the Foot Soldier's heart, and the life drained quickly away. The Foot Soldier crumpled to the ground.

By this time, the Dark Ninja had duplicated the flanking strategy of the other mummy, and as Foot Soldier dropped to the ground the two prongs of the staff pushed through the mummy's chest, and the creature evaporated into sand.

The Dark Ninja wiped sweat off his brow. He sighed, removed the flare gun from his belt, and shot a flare off.

* * *

"Where you have been all this time?" Shredder demanded.

"Master Shredder," the Dark Ninja bowed.

"What is that staff?" Shredder asked.

"Have you heard of Amset-Ra, my master?"

"The pharaoh with the six lost treasures?" Shredder asked.

"The diamond that you had us get from the Hale Gallery … instead, we found a map to all six lost treasures. I recovered this one, my lord, to prove they exist."

"This is a distraction," Shredder growled. "I don't want trinkets. I want Hamato Yoshi, and all of his disciples. This will fetch a handsome price, but I do not want you going after any more of these!"

"Master Shredder," Dark Ninja rose defiantly. "You don't understand. These work. I felt the power myself. You could possess immortality. The Foot Clan could be unstoppable."

"_Enough_," Shredder barked. He turned and walked back toward his throne. "Sell that for whatever you can get and we continue to hunt Hamato and his turtles."

"No."

"What did you say?" Shredder stopped moving and turned to face the Dark Ninja.

The Dark Ninja aimed the staff at Shredder. "You heard me."

"I don't think I did." Shredder walked forward, engaging the blades on his forearms with an ominous metal-on-metal slicing sound. Three blades grew longer, and Shredder threatened Dark Ninja with them.

A yellow beam of electricity shot out of the tip of the staff and encircled Shredder, stopping the elder ninja in his tracks. Shredder tried to walk, but couldn't move either leg. He tried to move his arm, but it felt like pure lead. He couldn't even turn his head from side-to-side. All he could move, he discovered, was his eyes. He could look around the room, but he couldn't move or speak otherwise.

"I think you heard me perfectly, 'master.' And now that I have your undivided attention, I think that I _will_ go after the treasures. Not that you can object now, of course."

TO BE CONTINUED ...


End file.
